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Subject: The Weeping Harvest


Author:
Stephen Collicoat
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Date Posted: 16:26:37 08/01/05 Mon
Author Host/IP: 58.84.86.176
Before I slept again,
I thought of the men
Slipping like ghosts through the dark forest,
Tapping the smooth-skinned trunks.
Grey sap tears.
The weeping harvest
Caught in coconut shells.

Each man's soft conversation.
Gentle ribbing.
Muted laughter.

I was with them then,
Ten thousand miles
From the black Sahara of my room,
Night air cooling my skin.
Careful where I planted my feet:
Dreading the trodden squirm of life
Among the carpet of fallen leaves.

Muscles aching in pleasant protest,
As I moved, accepted, through your world.
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